


Voyages of Fire

by thebadwolf



Series: Secrets of Servants [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal, Childhood Trauma, Domestic Violence, Fights, M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-12
Updated: 2015-04-13
Packaged: 2018-02-20 20:22:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2441825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebadwolf/pseuds/thebadwolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During a fight Sherlock becomes violent with John. Can the two of them work through their issues for the sake of their family?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Silent Fire

Game of Lights

000

John Holmes' life had changed so much in the last four years. He had a great job, a husband, and two amazing little girls. He never imagined his life would play out the way it had. Shortly after Isabell's first birthday Sherlock had asked him to marry him. Of course John had said yes. John took his last name. He couldn't imagine Sherlock changing his last name. They were married quietly but that didn't stop it from appearing in all the papers.

Just three weeks ago they adopted another girl named Wisteria. She was a cute baby. She was nearly a year old when they adopted her. They both had wanted to adopt a small baby but when they saw Wisteria's picture they fell in love.

Things weren't picture perfect with Sherlock but relationships were never perfect. They fought here and there but nothing serious. It was always the little things.

Isabell was one heck of a girl. She was too smart for her own good. She got a computer for her fourth birthday and could use the thing. She could turn it on and get to her favorite website. Not to mention she had a little hand held gaming system. It was hard to keep her attention focused on something.

She was seventy percent deaf in one ear and twenty percent deaf in the other. She wore a hearing aid in her weaker ear. The doctors said that she might need one in her other ear as well one day. It never got her down though. Sherlock and John never babied her because of it. She still had friends, did chores, and wanted to learn to play the violin.

Her short attention span was shorter than normal on a clear day in June when John took her into Scotland yard. He needed to pick up some papers for Sherlock. He needed a case. He was bored and if he didn't get a case John was going to kill him. Isabell wasn't having it though. She wanted to go home. Mycroft was taking her swimming and she was hot.

"Isabell," John said as they stood outside of Lestrade's office. "I need to do this. I'll only be a few minutes and after that we'll go home."

She looked so cute. She was standing there with a hand on her hip and her 'going out' bag over her shoulder. She kept everything she 'needed' to go out in there. Her hand held game, a bottle of water, and her stuffed cow were in there.

"I want candy," she said holding out a hand. "Please."

John sighed. He knew that was the only thing that would do. He went to the vending machine and got out a candy bar. He handed it to the child.

"Happy?" he asked as she opened it.

"Very," the little girl answered.

John stayed just long enough to watch her sit down in one of the chairs. With her free hand she got out her game. Happy that she would stay put and not end up wondering into people's offices again John knocked on Lestrade's door.

The inspector opened the door at once and waved John in.

"How are things John?" Lestrade asked digging through his desk.

"Fine," John said quickly. "Sherlock just sent me to pick up some papers."

"Yep," Lestrade said pulling out a folder. "You sound like you're in a bad mood. Bad day? New baby giving you some trouble?"

"You could say that," John said taking the folder. "I hope there is something in here that will hold his attention. He really is driving me nuts. He is really good with Wisteria but she fuses with me."

"I don't know how you live with him," Greg said with a laugh. "I would have killed him by now."

"He isn't bad. I can't blame him for being himself." John said with a forced smile. "I mean I love him and everything."

"Are things really that bad?" Greg asked feeling John's unhappiness in his voice.

"No," John said tucking the folder under his arm. "Hes just tense is all. He just needs a case."

Greg nodded but he was sure John was telling him the whole truth. He knew there were bets going around the office that they wouldn't last five years. Of course no one would blame John if he left. They all knew what it was like to be around Sherlock.

"If you need someone to talk to I'm always here," Lestrade said.

Even though John already knew that it made him feel better. It was nice to be reminded he had friends. He gave the inspector an agreeable nod. Without another word John left the office and tried to take his daughter by the hand. That was of course impossible. One was sticky with a half eaten chocolate bar and the other clung to her game.

Ah. His oldest was growing up too fast.

000000

Sherlock lay on the couch waiting for his daughter and husband to return from the trip to Scotland yard. Mycroft was taking Isabell and Wisteria out. Sherlock and John were supposed to go to a movie and then look over the cold case files. There had to be something worth his time.

Little Wisteria was asleep in Isabell's old swing. She was a good baby. She just hadn't adjusted to her new family.

He had his laptop and was working on an article for his website. Of course he wasn't supposed to be doing that. He was supposed to be cleaning the flat. He promised John he would. There were dirty dishes in the sink, clutter all over the living room, and the rug needed a good vacuuming.

Cleaning was never his thing. He just didn't see the point. It was just going to get dirty again. Of course he should have been helping John with it. John normally worked, kept the flat clean, and did a lot of things for Isabell and Wisteria. He promised himself years ago he would take on the housework but he just couldn't make himself keep up. 

He was considering getting up and doing something when he heard footsteps on the stairs. Shit. They were back.

Sherlock could hear John saying something to Isabell. He could hear Izzy's tiny footsteps on the stairs to her room. The door to the sitting room opened and John walked in by himself.

"Get the file?" Sherlock asked not looking up from his laptop.

"Yes," John said throwing the file down on the coffee table.

John looked around the room in disgust. It didn't look like Sherlock had picked up a thing. In fact the room looked worse. There was a new newspaper spread out on the coffee table. There was a spilled glass of juice and a half eaten piece of toast on the paper. Some of Wisteria's toys were on the floor as well. He felt a fight coming on. He pulled the door closed.

"Sherlock I only asked you for one thing," John said in an angry voice. "I just wanted you to clean the flat. You haven't even tried. I don't think you've moved since I left. Oh I'm wrong because you made more of a mess."

Sherlock closed his laptop and sat it on the floor. He knew John had ever right to be mad but he didn't need to talk to him that. Sherlock got to his feet and stood only a foot or so away from him.

"You don't need to speak to me like that," Sherlock said. "I'm not a dog."

"You promised," John said still angry. "Goddamn it. All you do is sit on that computer all day. Or you're staring into space. Get a grip."

"Don't tell me what to do!" Sherlock yelled pointing a finger at John. "I was going to do it. I hadn't got around to it yet."

"That's the way it always is," his husband said lowering his voice. "I just need a little help around here."

Neither of them heard their daughter sneak down the steps. The door was almost closed but there with a slight gap. She looked on at the fight. Isabell frowned. It wasn't like them to fight.

"Who do you think watches them while you're at work?" Sherlock yelled.

To John's surprise he gave him a little shove. The only time he could remember getting into a physical fight was during a case. Since they had been together Sherlock had never laid hands on him in that way.

"You think you do everything around here?" The detective asked pushing again.

John didn't know what to say or do. Sherlock was taller than him and perhaps stronger. He had never been afraid of him before. But he was now. It wasn't really his physical strength that scared him. It was his mental. Sherlock had eyes that he feel could pierce someone's soul. He opened his mouth as if to say something when he felt Sherlock's hand make contact with his face.  

A stinging pain filled John's face. John didn't know what to do or say. He was in shock as he stared at his husband. Sherlock's eyes were filled with rage. Perhaps if he just shut up and didn't move Sherlock would back up.

"I am so sick of you being so damn ungrateful!" Sherlock yelled before giving his husband an extremely hard shove.

The smaller man cried out and he fell back onto the coffee table. He yelped when he felt the drinking glass break. He only had a thin shirt on and the glass cut into his shoulder.

Sherlock looked on in horror at what he had done. He had never lost his temper with John like that. His husband was hurt. He was groaning in pain. There was blood coming out of his shoulder. He tried to help him up but John pulled away from him.

Wisteria let out a loud scream. She, no doubt, had been woken by their screams.

"Don't touch me!" he cried rolling off the table. "Get away!"

Isabell couldn't believe what had happened before her eyes. She didn't know what to do. Was she supposed to call the police? She could call her Uncle Lestrade. What about Uncle Mycroft? Something about doing that didn't seem right. Wouldn't her Papa get in trouble? She ran up the stairs as panic took over her.

Sherlock ran into the kitchen came back in with paper towels and wet wash cloth.

"Please John," he said kneeling down next to him. "Let me look."

John didn't want to but he didn't have a choice. Sherlock pulled his shirt off and looked at the wound. There was no glass stuck in his skin but he was bleeding badly. He knew John would need stitches. He washed it up and patted it dry with paper towels. It was still bleeding. He held paper towels on it.

"Get Wisteria," John ordered holding paper towels himself. "She is scared."

Sherlock walked over to Wisteria and picked up the crying child. He held her close to his chest until she stopped crying. He felt horrible. He knew he'd hit his husband and scared his child. He never thought he'd do that.

"You need to have that looked at," the detective said.

"I can't go the hospital," John said getting to the feet. "They'll ask what happened."

"I don't care if you tell them the truth," Sherlock said. "For god's sake John. You don't have one reason to protect me. You're the one that got hurt."

"Fine," John said as felt the blood soak through the paper towels. "Call emergency. I'm bleeding pretty bad. Don't tell the truth. Just tell them I fell. No point making a scene over this."

Wisteria was starting to whine again. Sherlock picked up his mobile and dialed. Quickly a voice answered him.

"Hello," Sherlock said. "This is Sherlock Holmes calling from two twenty one b baker street. My husband tripped and fell on the coffee table. He cut himself and is bleeding pretty bad. Yes..of course..yes..."

Sherlock hung up the phone and sat the baby down on the couch.

"Isabell!" Sherlock called.

The little girl appeared at the door to the sitting room.

"Papa?" she asked barely poking her head in.

"Watch your sister," Sherlock said. "Just sit with her. I need to take Daddy downstairs."

Isabell didn't say other word as she sat down on the couch next to Wisteria. Her silence wouldn't strike Sherlock strange until later.

Sherlock put an arm around John and helped him downstairs. Mrs. Hudson was at the bottom of the stairs.

"What's going on?" she asked when she saw John. "I heard a crash."

"John tripped," Sherlock explained opening the front door.

Mrs. Hudson frowned and shook her head. She was about ready to say something when the sounds of the ambulance filled her ears. She took John's other arm and helped him outside.

Sherlock felt like a terrible person as John was loaded in the back of the ambulance. He could see a bruise forming on his face. It killed him to know he did that. They asked if he wanted to go but he told them he couldn't. He had two kids upstairs.

Mrs. Hudson decided to go along until Sherlock could get there.

Sherlock walked upstairs to find his two children sitting on the couch where he left them. That wasn't normal at all.

"Is Daddy going to be OK?" Isabell asked on the verge of tears.

"Of course," Sherlock said kneeling down in front of his oldest. "He just tripped. He has a bad cut but he'll be better. They're going to fix him up. I still want you to go with Uncle Mycroft. I want you to be happy honey. This isn't for you to worry about."

"What in the world happened?" said a male voice.

Sherlock turned to see his brother standing in the doorway with a confused look on his face.

"What happened?" Mycroft repeated. "I saw an ambulance outside."

For the first time in his life Sherlock was at a lose for words. How could he lie to his brother?

* * *

 

(Here is a drawing I did of little Isabell)


	2. The Healer's Flames

John thought he might have passed out but he wasn't sure. The ride was a big blur. He knew they gave him something for the pain and that might have caused the confusion. He never did handle pain killers very well.

When he finally came to he was lying in a bed in a room by himself. His shoulder was tender but didn't hurt so much. He looked down to see his arm was in a sting. His wrist was in a brace of its own. No doubt he had strained it. Had he landed on it? That didn't seem right. Maybe he had rolled on it.

The whole fight was kind of a blur. He had never seen Sherlock so angry. They always bickered from time to time but they had never got that carried away. The fact that Sherlock hit him made me angry as hell. The fact that John had been so scared of him right before he hit him really scared him.

Why had he told Sherlock it was ok to lie? He would never tell any woman it was ok to lie about a way they had got an injury. He would never want Isabell or Wisteria to lie about something a guy had to done to them.

Perhaps he had told him it was ok to lie because they were men. It was ok for men to fight wasn't it?

John was lost in his thoughts when the door to his room opened a nurse walked in.

"Hi," she said looking down at the chart in her hands. "How are you?"

"A little sore," John admitted.

"Well you had to have ten stitches," the woman explained. "And you have a sprained wrist. The report that came in with you said that you tripped."

"Yes," John said. "I have two children. Toys are always all over the place. I tripped and landed on the coffee table. "

"I know how it is," she said with a laugh. "I have four. How old are they?"

John couldn't believe he had lied again. The words were slipping out easier every time he said it.

"My oldest is Four years and the little one is ten months," John said.

The nurse was looking over the paper work. She frowned and flipped through it again.

"I guess," she said, looking up at him, "that I'm a bit confused. You say that you tripped but it is clear by the injures that you fell backwards. Maybe it's just me but when I trip I fall forward. Plus you seemed pretty panicked when they tried to look you over."

Damn. She wasn't buying his story at all. He guessed she heard that kind of stuff all day.

"I don't know," John said. "I guess I just got turned around somehow. I fell. That's all I know. I was in pain. What do you expect from me?"

He didn't understand why he was getting mad at her. She was just doing her job.

"I see," she said. "I'll just write that down. Your husband called and hes on the way. There is a Greg Lestrade here to see you. Do you want to talk to him?"

"Of course," John said.

The nurse nodded, turned, and left the room. He let out a deep breath and looked around the room. That woman had really put him on the stop. He felt like the bad guy in all this.

Bad guy? Sherlock wasn't a bad guy. He had just lost his temper. It wouldn't happen again. John was willing to let it slip by once. Never again. If Sherlock ever put his hands on him again he'd leave him. He'd take the kids and go.

The door opened and Lestrade walked in. He wasn't smiling. That made John nervous.

"Hi John," he said sitting down in one of the chairs. "Mrs. Hudson called me and told me what happened. I wanted to see how you were."

"I'm fine," John lied. "Just a little banged up."

"I'm not stupid," Greg said. "I'm a cop. I see this all the time. You're lying and know why. Of course you want to protect Sherlock. I understand that but you need to think of your own safety."

"I'm not lying," John said getting a bit defensive. "I told the truth."

"There are holes in your story and I could push this. Mrs. Hudson already told me you two were fighting. She could hear you two going at it and then there was a crash." Lestrade said. "If there is evidence that someone has been abused I don't need your testimony. I don't want to do that. It could make a big mess. You have two very young children. I don't want to see child services getting involved. I want the two of you to work this out."

John didn't know what to say. He didn't want all this to happen. It didn't want all this trouble. He didn't know lying would cause this. Abused? Lestrade was taking it a bit too far. After all Sherlock had never hit him before.

"I just want you to think about this," Greg said. "Just think. I think you both need help. If he did this you need to tell me. I promise I won't arrest him unless you want to press charges. If he did do this he needs a very long talking to. John you were the victim. Remember that."

John didn't want his husband to get in trouble. He didn't want to lose their children but he knew Sherlock needed help. John took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

_"I don't care if you tell them the truth," Sherlock said. "For god's sake John. You don't have one reason to protect me. You're the one that got hurt."_

"Fine," John said opening his eyes. "Sherlock needs help. I've seen him like that. We were just fighting about cleaning. He slapped me and shoved me."

"John you were lucky you didn't get hurt worse than you did." Greg said in a soft voice. "You could have hit your head and died. What's going on with him?"

"I don't know," John said shaking his head. "Hes been getting worse and worse. Hes become so distant. Every time I speak to him he gets so mad."

"Any chance he is using again?" Greg questioned.

John hadn't thought of that.

"God," he said shaking his head. "I hope not."

"Look," Greg said getting to his feet. "I'm going to let you get some rest. I'll let Sherlock see you before I talk to him."

Greg didn't say anymore as he walked out of the room. John closed his eyes and relaxed into the pillow. He wasn't sure he had done the right thing but he hoped he had. He felt alone and lost.

0000000-00000

"Papa fell," Isabell answered for Sherlock when he found no words.

"Fell?" Mycroft asked spinning his umbrella a bit. "He fell hard enough to need an ambulance?"

"He cut himself bad," Sherlock said nodding to mess of glass.

"Well," Mycroft said. "I'm still going to take the kids. You need to be with him Sherlock. You still want to go with me Isabell?"

"Yes," the young girl said. "I'll get my bag."

Mycroft didn't say anything as he collected Wisteria's diaper bag. He slung it over his shoulder and took Wisteria into his arms.

"This place needs a cleaning," Mycroft said looking around the room. "No wonder he tripped. Best get on that soon."

Part of Sherlock wondered if Mycroft already knew what happened.

Perhaps he even had video of it. He swore there were no cameras in that flat but Sherlock didn't believe him.

"I'm going to be at the hosptial," Sherlock said. "They took him to Bards so I have to go. I have to see him."

"I hope everything will be alright," Mycroft said in a soft voice.

Isabell appeared at the door again. Despite everything she was smiling. She loved being with her Uncle. She could always forget her troubles.

"Hug?" Sherlock asked his daughter.

Isabell's smile seemed to change. She seemed to be forcing it now. She walked over to her father and allowed him to hug her. It didn't feel natural. She backed away quickly and ran beside Mycroft.

"Alright," Mycroft said. "I'll bring the kids by the hospital in a couple of hours."

Sherlock watched as he brother and children left the room. He stood there for the longest time looking at the broken glass and the blood. It made him sick.

He quickly left the room and headed to the hospital.

00000000-0000

When Sherlock entered the waiting room he wasn't surprised to see Mrs. Hudson wasn't the only one there. Lestrade sat next to her drinking a cup of coffee. He walked over to them.

"How is he?" Sherlock questioned.

"As good as can be expected," Mrs. Hudson said getting to her feet. "I have to use the restroom."

She walked past him without another word. She was looking at him with such distaste. Sherlock looked at Lestrade with a questioning look.

"Something you would like to say?" Lestrade said leaning back in his seat.

"How bad is it?" the consulting detective asked walking closer to him.

"I don't know how many stitches he needed," Lestrade said. "But I do know his wrist was also sprained."

"I have to see him," Sherlock said walking to the front desk.

"Really nasty fall that was," Greg said to Sherlock's retreating back.

Sherlock felt the hairs stand up on his neck. Lestrade knew what had happened. He had to have. Had John told him? Sherlock wouldn't blame if he did. Part of him wanted to turn around and confess his crime but he couldn't bring himself to do it.

The nurse quickly gave him John's room number and led him there. She walked back towards the desk.

Sherlock took a deep breath before he opened the door. John was lying in the bed and for a second Sherlock thought he might be asleep.

"Is that you Sherlock?" John asked in a soft voice.

"Yes," Sherlock said sitting down in the chair next to the bed. "Is it OK for me to be here?"

"Yes," John said simply. "Does Mycroft have the kids?"

"He came by right after they took you," his husband explained. "Did you tell Lestrade? He seems to know."

"Yes" the good doctor said still not facing Sherlock. "He had his mind made up. Mrs. Hudson heard us fighting."

Sherlock was silent. He wasn't mad at John. He was made at himself. He couldn't believe what he had done. 

"Sherlock its going to be ok," John said rolling over to look at him. "I'm not pressing charges. Lestrade wants to talk to you but you're not going to get in trouble. I'm going to give you a second chance. But I promise you that if you ever put your hands on me again I'll press charges, leave, and take the kids."

"Never John," Sherlock said placing an hand on his injured arm. "Never. Is there anything you need?"

"Smuggle me some good food in here," John said with a chuckle. "I know how hospital food is. I'm going to be staying the night. They haven't told me I have to but I'm going to stay. I need the rest. Stop and speak to Lestrade before you leave."

"Of course," Sherlock said getting up. "I'll go get you some Chinese perhaps."

Sherlock didn't like the idea of talking to Lestrade. He didn't want to talk about what he had done but he knew he had to. John wanted him to do it so he had to do it. He had to face the music.

"Sounds good," John said giving him a little smile.

Sherlock patted his arm and walked out of the room.

000-0000-00000-000000-00000

Little Isabell manged to forget her troubles as soon as she was in the pool. The cool water felt so good.

Mycroft always reserved the pool so they could have it to them selves. She could swim pretty good. She could even go in water over her head.

She had no idea she was swimming in the pool where her real father had nearly taken the lives of her adoptive parents. Mycroft hoped she would never come into that knowledge.

The eldest Holmes sat in a chair off to the side. Young Wisteria sat in his lap with a sippy cup in her hands. He never did take a liking to little children but it was different with his nieces.

Isabell climbed out of the pool and sat on the edge dipping her feet in it.

"Everything alright little one?" Mycroft asked.

"I guess," she said kicking her feet in the water.

"Is this about what happened with your parents?" he questioned.

Of course he knew what had happened that room. He didn't have cameras in there anymore but he didn't need them. He could read it in Sherlock's face.

"Yes," she said glancing up at him. "I saw it. Papa pushed Dad."

"Don't worry about it too much." her uncle said. "Sometimes adults fight. What happened was bad but I know it won't happen again."

He could tell the little one was upset. No doubt she felt guilty about telling on one of her parents. She was shaking slightly and not looking at him. Perhaps she blamed herself. 

"You did the right thing telling me," Mycroft said.

"I don't want them to fight anymore," Isabell confessed on the verge of tears. "I don't like it."

"I have an idea," he said not wanting to see the little one so upset. "How would you like to meet an old friend of mine?"


	3. The Flame of the Force

Sorry about the lack of updates. I had this capter ready to go along with a chapter to one of my other stores and my laptop died! I am still waiting on repair to fix it but it looks like they are going to have to wipe the whole thing! :(

Oh well. So I have to re-write everything. Usually my stuff is better the second time around. Hope you enjoy.

 

\--

Sherlock felt the world on his shoulders as he walked out to the waiting room. He knew he would have to face Lestrade.

He wasn't used to being on this end of the law. Part of him wished John had never opened his mouth. But he didn't blame John. The doctor was a strong man and stood up for himself. Mostly he felt ashamed of himself.

Why had he struck his husband? He was not really a violent person. He never thought he would strike John out of anger. He slapped and pushed him. Right with his child in the room. They never argued in front of the children.

What if it had been Isabell? Would he have gone after his own daughter? He didn't believe he would hurt his child but he had once felt the same way about John.

Lestrade was sitting in the waiting room for him. He seemed to be by himself. Mrs. Hudson was no where in site.

"I need to speak to you," Sherlock said.

Lestrade simply nodded and led him off into a small room. Sherlock knew what the room was used for. It was used to question domestic abuse suspects. Sherlock felt knots in his stomach. Lestrade could have questioned him in another room. No. This was part of it. Lestrade wasn't giving him any special treatment. He was treating him just like any other abuser off the street.

The detective sat down and nodded for Sherlock to do the same. The silence was making Sherlock uneasy. Was Lestrade that angry with him? Of course he was. What a dumb question.

Sherlock sat down without a word.

"What happened?" Lestrade finally asked. "This isn't like you."

"I really don't know," Sherlock said. "I...I wasn't thinking straight."

"Are you using again Sherlock?" His friend asked in a nicer tone. "If you need rehab all you have to do is ask."

Sherlock frowned at that. He had used drugs again. Two weeks ago he found himself in a drug den. He stayed out all night on the grounds of working on a case. John hadn't suspected a thing.

No. That hadn't caused the out burst. It was over a week ago. If it was drug related it would have already happened.

"Yes," Sherlock answered. "But just once. Over a week ago. That didn't cause this."

"I still think you need rehab Sherlock," Lestrade said. "You need to figure out what is driving you back to drugs."

Sherlock nodded. He knew Lestrade was right. He needed to deal with what was diving him back to drugs. He didn't need rehab to figure it out though. He knew.

His oldest daughter was amazing. Long curly brown hair and blue eyes. She looked a lot like him. Yet, there was something in her that reminded him of her real father. Something in her voice. She was always calm. Sherlock never saw her get upset. She was smart and cunning. She would wait and wait for something.

She was truly Moriarty's daughter and he hated that. Every time he looked at her he saw himself, his mother, and that man in her. Would she end up like him? Did he have some mental illness that also lay dormant in her?

He needed to get his brain to stop thinking about it. He turned to drugs. It was too tricky to get around John. If he used a lot John would notice. He was a doctor after all.

John was in the way of him getting a little peace from his thoughts. Was that why he had lunged at him?

"I would do rehab," Sherlock said. "If that is what you need then I will do it. Whatever it takes. I...I don't want to do this again."

"Do you hear yourself?" Lestrade asked. "It's great that you want to do rehab. I'll make sure it is set up. But...that last sentence bothers me. You don't want to do it again or you're not going to do it again. Those are two very different things."

Sherlock hadn't thought about that but Lestrade was right.

"I'm not going to do this again," Sherlock said. "I can't. Seeing John like that..."

"You know what they say Sherlock," Lestrade said. "First they go for the spouse and before long its the kids. You need to get your anger and issues under control. Do you know what triggered this?"

Sherlock did of course but it wasn't something that he wanted Lestrade to know about it. It could be dangerous for people to know who Isabell's father was. The man had a lot of enemies.

"No," Sherlock lied. "I don't."

"Six weeks intensive out patient," Lestrade said. "One failed drug test and it will be in patient. I mean it Sherlock. Also I'm issuing a protective order. You are not to be left alone with John or the children. I'm sorry Sherlock but we need to make sure this is under control. I'll list Mrs. Hudson as an approved chaperon. If I hear of one act of aggression or anger directed at any of them you will only them see them at visiting centers."

Sherlock knew Lestrade was being more than fair but it still hurt. Not be left alone with his children? What had he become?

"That's a good deal," Sherlock said. "I'll take it."

"Damn right you will," Lestrade said standing up. "Off you go. I'll call you when I have the out patient arranged."

Sherlock thought he would feel better after talking with Lestrade but he didn't. He felt as if he betrayed the trust of everyone who knew him. Perhaps he felt he got off too lightly. Rehab and supervised visitation. Six weeks? Would this all be over in six weeks. Part of him wished it would be that simple but deep down he knew this was going to be a long and painful road.

\--

Mycroft took Isabell and Wisteria to meet an old friend of his, Irene Idle. She had a nice place in London and often kept to herself. She was living under an assumed name but Mycroft always knew where to find her.

Isabell wasn't sure about her. She seemed careful and shy about her but she could tell that wasn't her real self.

"I think the children should stay with you for a while," Mycroft explained. "You and Mrs. Hudson. She normally cares for them when John and Sherlock are busy but she is getting some age to her."

"How long?" Irene asked sitting down on the couch with Wisteria.

The young child was busy taking in the room around her. She never seemed to hold her in one place.

"I don't know," Mycroft said. "I must ask Lestrade what he is going to do about Sherlock. He really is getting out of hand."

Isabell noticed they both seemed very into their conversation. She took that chance to wonder about the house. She found herself in a small office. She always had the habit of wondering off and getting into things. She was always getting in trouble for it.

She walked over to the desk in the room and picked up one of the address books. She glanced through the names. Most were fairy normal names. John. Paul. Mike. Boring. She tossed the book to the side. Under the book was another.

It was a simple black book with nothing written on the cover. She picked it up and opened it. There was only one entry in the whole book.

Moriarty

070 1584 9781

"Isabell!" She heard her Uncle calling her.

She quickly closed the book and raced towards his voice.

\---

Sorry it is so short. My daughter is sick. Will add more tonight or tomorrow.


	4. Chapter 4

John wished he knew what Lestrade said to Sherlock. He felt so guilty about turning him in. It was just a little fight. Was Lestrade making a big deal out of nothing?

**Victim.**

That word burned in his mind. He didn't like to think of himself as a victim. He was a strong man. A solider. A doctor. A father. A husband. Victim didn't seem to fit.

He knew he could take Sherlock in combat. But he knew physical strength wasn't everything. He knew people who were abusive were also controlling and manipulative. He knew abuse was a mental game. That was Sherlock. He liked things his way.

John knew something to be done now. Sherlock needed to understand he couldn't use John as his play thing. He was not going to stay with an abusive partner. He was not going to have his children raised in an abusive home. He was grateful Isabell hadn't seen it. She might have heard it. He would have to check with her. No doubt she would have questions.

Poor Isabell. Would she need therapy?

Not now. John told himself. He was getting ahead of the game.

He was so lost in his thoughts he almost didn't hear the knock at the door.

"Lestrade," the voice said. "Can I talk to you John?"

"Of course," John said.

The door opened and Lestrade walked in. He had a worried look on his face. His eyebrows were narrowed and his mouth was tightly closed.

"What's the verdict?" John questioned.

"John," Greg said sitting down next to him. "I think you need to form a plan in case this relationship doesn't work out."

"Why?" John asked in a confused voice. "What's going on?"

"He is back on the drugs," Greg explained. "I ordered him into rehab. He isn't to be allowed to be alone with you or the children. He seems like he is holding something back. I just don't think he is devoted to getting help. He agreed...but...I don't know. I don't think he understands how serious it is."

John frowned and felt his heart sink. He was hoping Sherlock hadn't touched drugs. It hurt him to think Sherlock needed the drugs. What was on his mind that he couldn't share with his own husband?

"I know Isabell's adoption wasn't planned," Greg said. "One day you two weren't a couple and the next there was a baby in the house. I didn't ask any questions. Isabell seemed to really bring you guys together and you've been a happy family since. I just wondered if maybe...it was causing this problem with Sherlock. I mean...is there anything to do with Isabell or anything else for that matter that could be affecting Sherlock this way?"

John didn't answer. There was no way he would tell Lestrade the truth about Isabell without Sherlock's permission.

"I knew it!" Lestrade said when John didn't answer. "I know he is your husband but you need to think about his well being. This is destroying him. It's turning him into an abusive drug user."

"It's a serious problem," John said. "I understand that but I can't betray him in that way."

"Alright," Lestrade said. "I guess I can respect that. When he comes back to visit with you I will be in the room. Perhaps you can get his permission. I would like that. Even if he doesn't tell me I would like it if he opens up to someone else. Perhaps a therapist."

 

\--

Sherlock slipped down to the Chinese restaurant not too far from the hospital. He wanted to get the food and take it back to John as soon as possible. He didn't want his love suffering anymore. He wanted to do everything to make him happy.

He was just trying to flag down a cab when he heard a beep from his mobile. He flipped it open and looked down at the message.

**Lots of love Papa. Mycroft is helping me type this. He says we have to stay with Mrs. Hudson tonight. He says we can still read our book tonight but she has to be there. Miss you and Dad.**

**Isabell**

Sherlock felt as if a knife was being slammed into his heart. His actions didn't just hurt John. They hurt his whole family. He quickly typed back a response.

_Can't wait to see you. I'm going to check on Dad. I'll be home in a short bit and I'll bring dinner._

**:)**

Was all he got as a response.

He quickly got into a cab and rushed back to the hospital.

 

\--

Irene didn't know what to do with the little ones. She wasn't used to kids. She loved them but she just didn't know what do with them. Whenever she turned her attention to Wisteria Isabell would disappear.

That girl was more like Sherlock than she cared for. Mycroft didn't tell her much about the children. Just told her they were Sherlock and John's daughters. Mycroft. That man always amazed Irene. The first time she had heard from him in years and she is ordered to care for two small children. She didn't even know how he manged to find her.

Little Isabell looked just like Sherlock. She wondered if they had used a surrogate. Little Wisteria looked very different. She had bright red hair and green eyes. An amazing little girl in her own way. Very interested in the world. Her eyes never seemed to stop moving.

She was supposed to watch them until she got instructions to take them home. How long would that be? Would they need to be feed? The baby had plenty of formula but what did Isabell like to eat?

"Isabell?" Irene called.

Irene returned to the living room from making a bottle for Wisteria. Isabell was no where to be seen. The television was still on but there was no sign of the child.

Isabell found her way back into the office. She found the black book and opened it.

Moriarty

070 1584 9781

Isabell wasn't sure why but something was pulling her towards the name. She needed to know who they were. There was a cordless phone sitting on the desk. She grabbed it and pushed in the numbers.

It rang a few times before someone picked up.

"Irene?" Came a male voice. "What can I do for you?"

"Hello," Isabell said. "My name is Isabell Holmes."

"...Isabell?..." the voice was soft and welcoming. "How did you get his number?"

"I'm at Irene's house," Isabell said. "She knows my Uncle. I found it. I'm going to get in trouble for using the phone by myself but...I don't know. I just needed to call you."

"Do you know who I am Isabell?" the strange man asked.

"No," Isabell said. "Should I?"

"No," the reply came after a long pause. "I know who you are. I know your parents. How are you they?"

"Fine I guess," Isabell said. "They fight a lot. My Dad is in the hospital right now. I want him to come home."

"Oh Isabell," he said. "I am sorry."

For some reason Isabell felt comfortable confiding in this strange voice on the other end of the phone. Her heart felt warm.

"What happened?" the man questioned when Isabell didn't say anymore.

"You need to go Isabell," the man said. "My name is Jim Moriarty. You call me anytime. Perhaps this should be our little secret."

"Yes," Isabell said quickly writing the number down. "I will."

She hung up the phone and slipped the number into her pocket.

"Isabell!" came Irene's panicked voice.

"In here!" Isabell called.

"Oh Isabell," Irene said coming into the room. "What are you doing in here?"

Isabell knew she would get in trouble if Irene found out she used the phone. She was banned from doing it at home. Some where deep in the back of her head she knew she would get in trouble for calling that number. She didn't know why. She just knew.

"Looking for paper and pencils," Isabell explained. "I like to draw."

"Of course," Irene said getting the requested supplies out of a draw. "Come along Isabell."

Isabell smiled as she followed Irene out of the room. For some reason she felt as if everything was going to be OK.

 

-

 

I meant to post this the other day. For some reason it didn't do it. I got my laptop back today. All the stories I was working on are gone. :( oh well. At least I have a way to write every day again.


	5. Chapter 5

Sherlock wasn't sure he wanted to face his husband. He knew he had but part of him didn't want to. Perhaps he was scared. He loved John very much. It killed him to see him in the hospital because of him.

When he reached John's room Lestrade was waiting. Oh yes. Lestrade's order. He didn't think it was safe him to be alone with his own husband. 

“Before I let you in,” Lestrade said blocking the door. “I want you to know that I won't have you stressing this man out. He has been through enough.”

“Of course not,” Sherlock said in heavy voice. “I did this. I know I hurt him. I'm just trying to make his stay as good as I can. We are both on the same side here.”

Lestrade narrowed his eyes at that. The Scotland yard detective wasn't too sure about that. He opened the door and let Sherlock in the room. John was sitting up in bed watching the news. There was something on about missing dogs. At least a dozen dogs were missing from homes in the London area. Sherlock thought the case wasn't anything of interest. No doubt it was just a dog fighting ring.

John clicked off the telly when Sherlock walked in. Sherlock set his food down on his bedside table.

“Thank you Sherlock,” John said opening the bags. 

“I...I wanted to say again how sorry I am,” Sherlock said. “I'm going to rehab. I slipped up with drugs. I know you're mad and you have every right to be.”

John frowned. He wasn't really mad at Sherlock for turning back to drugs. He was sad. He was sad it had to come to that. Part of him was worried Isabell would find out. He didn't want their young child to find out about that. It could effect her for the rest of her life. 

“I swear I will never hurt you again,” Sherlock promised sitting down on the bed. “This is killing me. I know you don't trust me anymore and that hurts.”

“It's going to be a while before I trust you again,” John said. “Look I'm glad you're getting help but you have to be serious about it. Don't do this for me or the kids. You need to do this for yourself. You need to learn you are worth more than this.” 

John's words touched Sherlock's heart. This man was able to open him up in ways he didn't think possible. 

“I will,” Sherlock said standing up. “I have to go home now. I want to see the girls. I'll talk to your later darling.”

He leaned over and gave his husband his a little kiss. He felt John flinch away from his touch. 

“They want me to stay for a few days,” John explained. “Tell the kids I love them. Perhaps Mycroft or Mrs. Hudson can bring them tomorrow.”

“I'll see to it,” Sherlock said.

Sherlock gave his lover one more look before walking out of the room.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

As soon as Sherlock left the hospital to head for home Mycroft arrived at Irene Adler's door to take the children home.

“How were they?” Mycroft asked taking young Wisteria into his arms.

“Perfect little angels,” Irene said. “Are you going to need me again?”

“Perhaps,” Mycroft said. “Next time I'll give you more warning.”

Irene just nodded as Mycroft headed off taking the two children to the car.

Isabell thought about telling her Uncle about her talk with Moriarty but decided not to. She knew she wasn't supposed to use the phone without permission. Plus the man on the phone though it was a good idea to keep their talk a secret. Who wa the strange man on the phone? 

She would call him again. He seemed like a nice enough person. His voice was so soft and welcoming. Maybe he was a friend of Uncle Mycroft's.

“You seem to have something on your mind little one,” Mycroft said looking down at her.

“Just worried I guess,” Isabell lied. 

She wasn't worried. Well, she was worried about her Dad a bit. After all he was in the hospital but she knew it would work out. He would be home soon. She didn't like the fighting though. Sometimes her Papa and Dad yelled at each other. Never at her or Wisteria though. She wondered why.

“Alright,” Mycroft said raising an eyebrow. He knew the little one was hiding something. “Well you will see your Papa soon enough. Your dad is going to be in the hospital a few more days. I will take you to see him tomorrow.” 

When they arrived home Sherlock was already upstairs. He was sitting in the sitting room. Mrs. Hudson was in the kitchen preparing supper. 

Isabell wasn't sure how to feel about seeing her Papa. She was mad at him for hurting Dad but she still loved him. She ran over to him and climbed up into his lap.

“Hi,” She said putting her arms around his neck.

“Did you have fun?” Sherlock asked.

“Yep,” she said. “We went swimming. Then we went to see Irene.”

“Irene?” Sherlock asked looking at his brother.

“Yes,” Mycroft said putting Wisteria in her swing. “I had to run to a meeting. She watched the kids for a little while.”

Irene was in town? That was never good. John didn't even know she was alive. He wondered if he would be mad about it. At one time John believed Sherlock loved that woman. It wasn't love he felt for that woman. It was more respect.

“She is really nice,” Isabell said.

She sat there a few more second before jumping up and running into the kitchen.

“I'm going to take the kids to John tomorrow. Thank care little brother.” was all Mycroft said before slipping out of the room. 

Sherlock frowned at that. His brother seemed to be up to something. Of course Mycroft was always up to something.

–

Jim Moriarty walked across his living room and into the small kitchen. He felt like chicken for dinner and he knew there was some in the refrigerator.

Despite the fact he was under the lock and key of Mycroft Holmes he still had the normal things he would. A small flat that contained a fully functional kitchen, a sitting room, a bedroom, and a large bathroom complete with Jacuzzi. 

He still had an active social life. Every Friday Aaliyah would come and see him. They'd have sex in the Jacuzzi and talk about what the future might hold. He was a bit surprised when Aaliyah came to see him a few years back. He thought she wanted to fix things with her sons.

Of course he didn't mind. She was easy. He could beat her, cheat on her, and talk down to her. It didn't matter. She always came back to him. Of course he never did those things but he knew he could get away with it. 

He was actually preparing for her visit when he received the surprise call from Isabell. What was she doing with Irene? No doubt Mycroft had dropped them there while he was supposed to be watching them. Hearing Isabell's voice brought joy to his heart. That little girl was something amazing.

Aaliyah was always talking about how smart she was. There was no doubt that she would be smart. She was his daughter after all. Part of him wanted to see her. He wanted to leave and take his daughter in his arms. He wanted to raise her. Of course he knew that wasn't a good idea. He never planned on having children. His life was too busy and dangerous to have a child around.

Dinner. Yes. He had to get dinner ready. He took the chicken out of the refrigerator and put it on a baking pan. After adding an lush amount of spices to the chicken he put it in the oven. He had just closed the oven door when he heard Aaliyah at the door.

His 'home' was located in an underground bunker. A secure entrance lay a few feet away from his front door. 

“Jim!” Aaliyah called. “I'm here. Did you hear about John and Sherlock?”

God that woman was one for gossip. What he knew was from Isabell's phone call. Mycroft had not paid him a visit. Jim loved hearing details about Sherlock and John's life. All the juicy details. 

“No,” Jim said walking into the living room. 

“Well,” Aaliyah said hanging up her jacket. “Sherlock and John got into a really bad fight. John's in the hospital. I guess Sherlock messed him up pretty good.”

Oh. Poor Isabell. His daughter didn't deserve to be in an abusive home.

“Really?” Jim asked.

“Yes,” Aaliyah said. “I'm going to go over tomorrow and see how things are.”

“Would you ever tell them about me?” Jim questioned wrapping his arms around her.

“I'm sorry but I couldn't,” she said with a sigh. “Neither one of my sons would talk to me again and I wouldn't be able to see my granddaughters.”

“That's ok,” he said rubbing her boob through her shirt. “I understand.”

“Oh Jim,” she moaned. “Why do I love you so much? Why do you have to be so bad?”

“Come on to the bathroom darling,” he said. “I'll run a nice bath and turn the jets on. I just put dinner in so we have plenty of time.”

“Yes,” she said leaning into him. “Yes. I want you so bad. I miss seeing you all week. I wish I had more time to see you.”

“I want your ass tonight,” he said grabbing her behind with his free hand. “It's been a long time.”

Aaliyah frowned. She didn't like it in the ass. It didn't really hurt but she didn't get any enjoyment out of it. Well, at least they would be in the Jacuzzi. She would at least have the jets blowing on her clit to to enjoy. 

Jim didn't really care if it was ass or pussy. He knew Aaliyah didn't enjoy it. She did it to make him happy. He loved to see what she was willing to do for him. Maybe he would put it to good use someday. 

“Whatever you want,” she said.

He smirked before leading her off to the bathroom.


	6. Chapter 6

Alright. So I must have re-wrote this chapter a thousand times. I also started writing the next story that comes after this one. I just can't seem to get it right. Uh. I've been in and out of the hospital for about a month now. I've started to feel better now. Hope you guys like this chapter. If you don't please tell me what is wrong so I can fix it. Lots of love.

\----

Sherlock wasn't sure what he was going to do. His life was falling apart. His marriage might as well be over. His children were caught in something they didn't deserve. Part of him though about just filing for divorce. Maybe it would be for the best. John would get the kids of course and give them the best life he could.

No. He couldn't do that. He couldn't turn his back on his family. John was his husband and he deserved a happy life. Sherlock was just going to have to try harder. He needed to push Jim to the back of his mind. He couldn't let his hatred for the man ruin his life. His family needed him.

He told himself that over and over. He thought of the good times. He though of the first time Isabell called him Papa. He thought of her first steps .He thought of the way Wisteria smiled at him. He had to give this his full attention and effort. 

John came home after two days but he wasn't himself. Only one of his arms was functional. His damaged arm was in a brace and sling. Sherlock tried to help him in the dress in the morning but his husband would bat his hands away. John didn't want his help. In fact it seemed like John didn't want anything to do with him. John seemed happy when he played with the children but as soon as Sherlock tried to get near him the happiness would go away.

"Sherlock," he said. "I need my space. Please."

Mrs. Hudson kept a good watch on him. Sherlock took to sleeping on her couch. He was forced to sleep there until Lestrade lifted the ban. He wished the ban would end. He wanted to curl up with his husband. He wanted to hug his sleeping children. It hurt him to be away from his children but he had caused this problem. He kept wondering what could have happened. He could have killed John. The thought alone kept him up half the night. 

For a full week Sherlock focused on rehab. He got up, fed his children, kissed his husband and went to the clinic. The doctor talked about coping skills, self worth, and a bunch of other garbage Sherlock didn't really care about. At four he would arrive home. Isabell was always ready to tell her about her day and about her pretend battles with dragons. Little Wisteria was learning new words each day. Slowly but surly John was taking more interest in him. By the seven days he was giving him small smiles. 

On the eight day Sherlock returned home to find John sitting on the couch alone. The telly was on but he didn't seem to be watching it. There were no signs of his children. Sherlock noticed that John was wearing his brace but not the sling. He hoped that meant it was feeling better. 

"Hello John," Sherlock said sitting down next to his husband. "Where are the kids?"

"Mrs. Hudson has them tonight," John said smiling. "Lestrade called. He lifted your ban. You still have to do five more weeks at the clinic but you can be left alone with us. I thought it would be nice to have a night alone tonight. We haven't seen much of each other this last week."

Good news for a change! That was really the best news Sherlock had heard all week. 

"I know I've been distant Sherlock," he said. "I won't say I'm sorry for reacting that way but I do want things to change. I want things to go back the way they were."

Sherlock opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by John. The shorter man leaned over and placed a kiss on his lips. The touch felt like heaven to Sherlock. John moved his mouth to left to nipple on Sherlock ear lobe. He took the soft skin into his mouth a gave a little nibble. Sherlock moaned and leaned into the touch. 

"I want you Sherlock," he moaned into his ear. "I need you. It's been too long."

Sherlock's stomach did a flip flop. They hadn't had sex in weeks. He could already feel an erection starting to grow at the mere mention of sex.

"I need you," John said. "Let's go to bed."

John got up from the couch and left a very needy Sherlock behind. The doctor was already headed to the bedroom and Sherlock quickly followed. John had a bit of a hard time getting his clothes off due to the brace but Sherlock didn't dare help. He didn't want to make his lover mad. Instead he undressed and retrieved a bottle of lube from the nightstand. He lay on the bed and looked up at this husband.

It seemed John was getting the hang of getting undressed. By the time Sherlock relaxed into the mattress he was undressed. John sat down between Sherlock's spread legs. Sherlock handed John the bottle. He opened the bottle and dribbled some onto his fingers. He rubbed his fingers together in an attempt to warm the liquid. Despite that Sherlock still jumped when John touched his entrance with his lube covered fingers. 

"Sorry," John said with a chuckle. 

 The doctor carefully pressed a finger forward. Sherlock's body eagerly sucked it in. He was desperate for his touch. John pushed the finger in deep and slowed pulled out. On the way out he carefully brushed Sherlock's prostate. Sherlock moaned and closed his eyes. Everything was back to normal. He was under his husband getting ready to have sex. Their fight seemed years ago. 

"Still so tight," John remarked adding a second finger. "No matter how many times I take you."

Sherlock moaned and pushed down against the fingers. He wanted more. 

"Don't tease," Sherlock growled. "Take me."

John pulled his fingers free and grabbed the bottle of lube. He dumped into on his erection. He dropped the bottle onto the bed. Sherlock lifted his legs up and wrapped him around John's waist. 

"You're anxious aren't you?" John asked lining himself up.

"Only for you," Sherlock growled with a smile.

John pressed forward a bit hard. He was far too excited. Sherlock sucked in a deep breath as he body excepted the intrusion. John dove in about half way. Sherlock held back a cry of pain. John was never that rough with him. Sherlock let out a pain filled grunt as John began to move inside of him. Why was he being so rough? Was he still mad at him? Was this revenge? It doesn't seem like something John would do. 

His erection was starting to go down. John wasn't giving him enough time adjust. He just needed a minute. John always gave him a minute. He wanted to tell him. He opened his mouth to express his discomfort but slammed it shut at once. He opened his eyes to look up at John. His lover's head was thrown back and his eyes were close. He was in bliss. 

After what Sherlock did to him he had no place to complain about a little rough sex. He closed his eyes and tried to relax. After a moment he felt John leaning down to nibble on his ear. 

"Oh Sherlock," he whispered. "You always feel so amazing. How you feeling hun?"

Sherlock wasn't sure what to say. He wasn't going to lie but he didn't really want to tell him the truth. He had no right to complain. When he didn't answer John stopped moving. He pulled back enough to look at Sherlock's face. 

"Open your eyes," John said. "And tell me what is going on."

"You're hurting me," Sherlock confessed as he opened his eyes. "You didn't give me enough time to adjust."

"Why didn't you tell me?" John asked in a shocked voice. 

Sherlock whimpered when he felt John removing himself from. He watched dropped his legs as John knelt to examine him. No doubt the good doctor wanted to make sure he hadn't done any damage. 

"Why didn't you tell me?" John asked rubbing a finger against his entrance. 

"I thought maybe...maybe you were doing it on purpose," Sherlock said.

John's head lifted and he looked at Sherlock with shock and surprise. He would never use sex as a punishment. Why in the world would he cause his lover pain? Did Sherlock think he deserved pain?

"Sherlock," John started. "I'm not happy about what happened. I am still mad at you but I would never use sex as a way to get back at you. Causing you pain isn't going to make anything better. I just got caught up in my own pleasure. I'm sorry you thought I was hurting you on purpose."

"It's alright," Sherlock said. "I shouldn't have been so stupid."

"You weren't being stupid," his husband said. "You're feeling guilty. That's a new feeling for you and you don't know how to handle it."

"I'm sorry John," Sherlock said spreading his legs. "We can try again."

"No," John said. "You're going to be too sore for that right this second. I have another idea."

Sherlock smirked. He had a feeling he knew what John was going to do. John settled down between his legs. He brought his mouth down to his entrance and stuck out his tongue. Sherlock moaned as he felt his tongue slip inside of him. He felt his inner muscle tighten around the slippery appendage. He felt John's good hand wrap around his erection. It was starting to come back.

"Feels so good," Sherlock groaned.

He reached down with one of his hands and placed it on top of John's head. He began to massage his head. John was so talented with his tongue. He felt his erection growing in his hands. He needed more. He needed John inside of him.

"Please John," the taller man begged. "I can handle it. I'm not that sore. Please."

John released his erection and removed his tongue. He retrieved the lube and dumped more onto his erection. He put himself into position as Sherlock wrapped his legs around his waist. 

"Tell me this time if it hurts," John ordered. "I won't have you in pain."

"I promise," Sherlock said and he meant it.

Sherlock moaned as his lover slipped inside of him. John was going extra slow. He slowly pushed inch by inch into his body. He brushed by Sherlock's prostate on the way in causing the man to clench his insides. 

"Oh John," he moaned tightening his legs around him. 

John continued to go slowly until he was all the way in. He leaned down and began nibbling on his husband's ear. It was after Sherlock's favorite thing. His ears were so sensitive. He gave it a little flick with his tongue.

"Feel better this time?" he questioned.

"Much better," Sherlock said thrusting up against the appendage inside of him.

John smirked as he began to rock inside of him. Sherlock let out a pleasure filled yelp each time his prostate was brushed. 

"Oh Sherlock," he moaned as he started to go faster. "I can't stay mad at you. Damn you."

Sherlock could feel you orgasm building. He needed it. He needed the release so bad. He reached down and took his erection in his hand. After only a few strokes he could feel himself reaching his climax. He clenched hard around John's erection as he came. His vision went white and his body began to shake. John cried out at the sudden tightness. He pumped hard as he fell over the edge and filled Sherlock with his cum. 

He waited a minute before he pulled out. He looked down at Sherlock. The poor man was covered in cum. It coated his chest and hand. Some of the creamy white fluid was leaking out of his entrance.

"I'll get a flannel," John said. 

He got out of bed and walked into the bathroom. He managed to find a clean one under the sink. He got it wet under the sink and returned to the bedroom. Sherlock hadn't moved. He still lay on his back with his legs spread. He knew Sherlock didn't like dealing with the cum so he usually did it. To his surprise Sherlock took the flannel and began to clean himself up.

It was only then that they noticed Sherlock's mobile was beeping. It was half out of the pocket of his coat. John climbed off the bed and picked it up. He scrolled through the missed calls and messages.

There was a missed call from his mother and several messages.

"Your mother is trying to get hold you," John explained.

"Read them and see if they're interesting," Sherlock said before taking the flannel back into the bathroom.

John scrolled through the messages.

**Sherlock. I tried calling you. I heard John was in the hospital. I've tried to get down there to see but ... but I've had some issues myself. Please get back to me.**

**I really need to talk to. Something important is going on. I really don't want to talk to you about this over a message.**

**This has to do with Isabell. I really need to speak you. You need to talk to me or her. Please.**

"You're mother says that she needs to talk to you," John explained. "Something to do with Isabell."

Sherlock walked back into the bedroom and took the phone from John. He narrowed his eyes and he flipped through the messages. He pushed a couple of buttons and put the phone to his ear. He sat down on the bed. John settled down on the bed next to Sherlock.

"Hello," Sherlock said looking annoyed. "What can I do for you?"

John could hear Aaliyah talking very fast and sounded upset. He couldn't make out the words. Sherlock sat up straight. His face was white and he looked like he had seen a ghost. 

"How would you know this?" he questioned. "Don't lie to me. This is serious."

She was crying. John could hear that. He heard another jumble of speech.

"Fine," he said. "I've got you. I'll talk to her."

Sherlock clicked off his mobile and put it on the bedside table. He was shaking his head slightly. 

"What is it?" John questioned. "You look awful."

"It's Isabell," Sherlock said. "She's been talking to Moriarty."

John felt like someone kicked him in the chest. He couldn't believe. How did she manage to make contact with him? And why? John frowned. The fact that Aaliyah knew that meant she was still in contact with Moriarty. He must have told her. He knew that information would cause Sherlock pain. 

"We have to talk to her," John said. "She can't do that."

"I know," Sherlock said with a sigh. "I'll do it. I have a strange feeling that I am to blame for all of this."

"You can do it tomorrow," John said wrapping an around him. "Tonight I want peace."

"Alright," Sherlock said. "Tonight everything will be calm. How about I order some take away?"

"You're going to eat dinner without a fight?" John asked raising an eyebrow. 

"Peace tonight," Sherlock said with a laugh. "You take a nap and I'll call you when the food is ready."

John was tired. The painkillers he was on made him tired. He would be happy to get off them. He gave Sherlock a little kiss and nodded. 

"A nap sounds wonderful," he admitted. 

Sherlock climbed out of the bed and walked out of the bedroom. He made sure to close the bedroom door. He would give John his night of peace but he knew there would hell to pay tomorrow. 

\--

I am very open to suggestions. If there is something you would like to see in this story please tell me. I love other people's input. 


	7. Chapter 7

Isabell wanted to go up to her room as soon as she got home. She barely got to her room when she heard the fighting. 

_"Sherlock I only asked you for one thing," John said in an angry voice. "I just wanted you to clean the flat. You haven't even tried. I don't think you've moved since I left. Oh I'm wrong because you made more of a mess."_

They were fighting. They almost never got into fights. She crept back down the stairs and stood outside the door.

"Who do you think watches them while you're at work?" Sherlock yelled.

Isabell felt her heart starting to race. What was going on? She felt a lump in her throat when she saw her Papa push her Dad. 

"You think you do everything around here?" The detective asked pushing again.

Her Papa looked scared. Her Papa reached up and slapped him hard. Isabell let out a small gasp. Her Papa was scaring her. She had never seen him act that way before. 

"I am so sick of you being so damn ungrateful!" Sherlock yelled before giving his husband an extremely hard shove.

Her Dad fell to the table with a crash. Blood. There was blood everywhere. Fear gripped her and her heart began to race. 

Isabell couldn't believe what had happened before her eyes. She didn't know what to do. Was she supposed to call the police? She could call her Uncle Lestrade. What about Uncle Mycroft? Something about doing that didn't seem right. Wouldn't her Papa get in trouble? She ran up the stairs as panic took over her.

The young girl could hear herself screaming. She didn't scream that night. 

"Sh!" Mrs. Hudson's voice filled her ears. "I'm here. Wake up little one."

Isabell opened her eyes and let out a sigh of relief. She was safe. No fight. She was in Mrs. Hudson's arms.  She was crying and her body was drenched in sweat. 

"You're just having a bad dream," Mrs. Hudson said running a hand through the girl's hair. "Take a breath and relax. I'm here."

Isabell leaned against Mrs. Hudson and took long deep breaths. She needed to calm down. Tears were still falling down her face. 

"Do you want to talk about it darling?" Mrs. Hudson asked when the child calmed herself.

"Papa," Isabell said closing her eyes. "I was dreaming about the fight again."

"I thought as much," she said holding the child close. "It's alright to be upset about what happened. It's alright to cry."

"I was so scared," the child confessed.

It tore the woman's heart out to hear the child so upset. The poor dear was so young to have seen something so awful. 

"Have you talked to them about what you're feeling?" the woman asked. 

"No," Isabell said with a sigh. "I don't know if I could."

She didn't want her parents to know how upset she was. Her Papa was trying so hard to be good. He went to see his doctor everyday. He was extra patient with her and he even bought her a new toy. It was a plush red dragon and she loved it. She never let it out of her sight. 

"Does talking to me make you feel better?" Mrs. Hudson asked.

"Yes," she said. "It actually does."

"I think you should talk to your Papa and Dad about what you're feeling," the woman said. "Maybe they will be able to make you feel better."

Isabell knew she was right. She needed to get some feelings out. She needed to tell how sad and scared she was. Moriarty told her the same thing when she expressed her distress about what had happened. She called him every time she got a chance. Since her Papa was gone most of the day and her Dad was distracted it was easy to make the calls. Both of her parents were giving her a lot of space and letting her go to the peace of Mrs. Hudson's flat whenever she wanted. She made the calls from Mrs. Hudson's phone. 

"I will," Isabell said with a smile. "I'll talk to them tomorrow."

Mrs. Hudson smiled and helped the young child lie back down. She covered her up and tucked her in. Isabell was asleep within a few minutes. Mrs. Hudson hoped no more nightmares would haunt the child. 

 --

Sherlock was nervous. In fact, he was beyond nervous. He knew talking to Isabell was going to be hard. The poor girl had been through enough. Moriarty was bad news and he couldn't have Isabell talking to him. He arranged for John and Wisteria to leave when got home. He knew in his heart that he was to blame. Isabell over head the fight. Sherlock guessed she saw part of it. He hadn't spoken to her about it. She'd been ignored. The girl had been through a traumatic event and received no mental support. Somehow she found Jim's number and turned to him in her moment of need.

He really couldn't blame her. 

When Sherlock arrived home from the clinic John quickly slipped off with Wisteria. Little Isabell was sitting in the living room playing one of her handheld games. Sherlock sat down on the couch. She flashed him a small smile before turning her attention back to her game.

"Isabell," Sherlock said in an unsure voice. "I need to talk to you. Can you put the game down?"

"Did I do something wrong?" Isabell asked flicking off her game. 

The last thing she wanted was to make her Papa mad.

"Not really," Sherlock said patting the couch next to him. "Come here."

Isabell looked slightly scared as she walked over. She sat down silently and kept her eyes on her feet. 

"I'm sorry little one," her father said. "I'm sorry you had to see what you saw. I'm so sorry that it happened."

The small child said nothing. She didn't know what to say. She didn't know how to feel about what he was saying. Part of her was sad that her father was sad. Another part was glad he was sad. He had done a bad thing after all.

"It's come to my attention that you have started talking to a man on the phone," Sherlock said. "You can't talk to him."

"Why?" Isabell asked looking up at her Papa. "He listens to me."

Sherlock wasn't sure what to tell the child. She couldn't know the truth. She was far too young to know the truth. 

"He is a very bad man," Sherlock explained. "He has hurt a lot of people. Please Isabell. I promise to explain it when you are older. I'm going to give you someone else to talk to. A special doctor who will help you."

Isabell really didn't understand anything her Papa was saying. What kind of doctor would help her? Why did her friend do that was so bad? Well, at least the Papa was trying to reach out. That made Isabell feel a little better.

"Alright," she said nodding. "I'll talk to the doctor instead."

"Thank you darling," he said. "Also I want you to know that you can talk to me or your father. I'm sure you're mad at me. I expect that. I just want you to know you can tell me that. I won't hold it against you. Maybe you would feel better if you let it out."

"I am mad," Isabell said. "I'm mad you hurt dad. But I'm mostly scared. I'm scared it will happen again."

"Never," Sherlock said pulling his daughter in for a hug. "I will never hurt any of you again. I promise you that."

Isabell smiled and relaxed against her father. She wanted so hard to forgive him and move on. She would forgive him. She knew that but she would never forget. 

 

___

 

Moriarty was beyond angry. How dare the worthless whore mess up his chance to talk to his daughter? He knew she had spoken to Sherlock. He knew she was trying to cut off his contact with Isabell. Did that woman really think he wouldn't find out what she did? Aaliyah was a dead woman. Did she really think she could double cross him and live to see another day? 

He didn't actually think she was stupid enough to come to see him again but she was. He was sitting in the living room trying to watch the news when she came in the front door. 

"Please don't be mad Jim," she said at once. "Isabell needed help. She needed help you couldn't give."

Jim turned off the television and stood up without a word. He walked over to her silently and slowly. Aaliyah knew him well enough to know silence was dangerous. She slowly backed away from him. The two kept it up until she was backed against a wall.

"You're a dead woman," Moriarty said. "You don't betray me and live to tell about it."

"Jim," she said. "I was just thinking of what was best for Isabell. Please...believe me. She needed help."

"I know," he said. "That is why your death will be quick. You're stupid. I need a smarter pet."

She closed her eyes and began to cry silently. She always knew there would be a day that Jim would grow bored of her.

"None of that," he said kissing her tears away. "Go on home dear. No point going to anyone for protection. You're time is up and you know it."

"Jim please," she whispered. "I'm not ready to die."

"We are never ready," Moriarty said.

He took a few steps back and looked at her. Scared, shaking, crying. 

"Go," he said simply. 

Aaliyah looked as if she wanted to say something but she just shook her head. Without another word she left the prison he called home. Jim sighed and pulled out his mobile. He pushed in a few buttons and held it to his ear.

"Yes...," he said. "I have a job for you. Aaliyah Holmes needs to go. Make it quick. No torture."

Jim hung up with sigh. He was going to miss his pet. 

-

 

 

 

sorry about the delay. Going through some medical issues. Will post another chapter sooner. 


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